As I walked around the foreign city in the early hours of the morning (doesn't matter why), I came across a bridge, upon which were hundreds of padlocks, all engraved with initials and love messages. By the time my inebriated brain remembered about love locks, couples putting locks as symbols of their love on bridges, I noticed the man working on removing them, quietly, with a small electric saw.
I walked over with drunken confidence.
"I bet their damaging the bridge, so you're from the local council, right?"
He sighed, softly.
"No, if I can't be happy, why should they?"
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